


Reaction

by Writing-Classic-Rock (writingfanfic)



Category: The Beatles
Genre: Allergies, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 15:27:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8332843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-Classic-Rock
Summary: For the prompt: 'Can you do one where lennstarr have been together for a while and are madly in love but keep it a secret, but then ringo gets really injured and John is worried out of his mind but has to keep the depth of his concern a secret so as to not to give away their relationship? And John visits ringo in the hospital and wants nothing more than to kiss him but can't because the other Beatles are there.'I LOVE ME SOME GOOD LENNSTARR SUFFERING SAVE MY BABIES





	

You never know you’re in love ‘til you’ve lost it.

At least, that was all John could think in that hellish taxi ride to the hospital.

* * *

_“He just passed out.”_

_Brian was ringing his hands – he was at probably 50% genuine concern and 50% financial at that point – as he looked up at the three other Beatles._

_“We’ve rushed him to the hospital.” He exhaled slowly, and John stared at him, mouth open slightly, hands floating aimlessly as he struggled to figure out where to direct the blinding flash of anger that this news had brought him. “We’re-”_

_“What was he eatin’,” John asked tonelessly, and Brian blinked, thrown off-track. “What did yeh let him eat, Bri?”_

* * *

The taxi turned the corner, and John leaned into the front.

“Lad, I’m a Beatle. ‘Ow much cash is it gonna take for you to put yer foot down, mate?” The taxi driver looked back at him, and then gestured at the traffic.

“It’s London, mate,” he said flatly. “It’s rush hour, lad, it’s busy…” John threw a few notes into the front and leapt out of the door, pulling his hat down low. He was pretty sure he could find his way to the hospital. If it was to reach Ringo, he’d walk through Hell.

* * *

_“He never told us!” Brian argued, and John reached out, gripping the man’s shirt._

_“Ey, John,” Paul said warningly, eyes wide, and Brian stared at John, as if the punchline to a joke that’d plagued him for a decade had arrived in his head. “We’re all worried-”_

_“Yeh never thought to ask?!” John roared in Brian’s face. “Summat that could kill Ringo? Yeh never thought to ask, yeh just went with it-” Brian’s eyes were still filled with that astonished realisation, and John let go._

_“John,” he said, voice a little stunned, and John stormed to the door. “We’ll arrange a car…”_

_“Fuck you!”_

* * *

“Rin- Richard Starkey,” John said, and the nurse, staring in sparkle-eyed awe, nodded breathlessly.

“Oh, of course, Mr. Lennon…” She stared for a few moments more, and then he cleared his throat sharply. “Uh, sorry, let me just find him for you…” She hurried away, and he put his head in his hands. It smelled clinical and horrid in here, like disinfectant and sadness, and he wondered if he’d be allowed to keep anything he loved in his life.

* * *

_“John!”_

_Paul caught up with him as he strode down the hallway, and he turned to him._

_“What’s… what up with yeh?” the younger man asked, eyes wide and full of astonishment. “It’s a bad accident, but like… it’s an accident. Yeh **gripped** Bri!”_

_“He could’ve killed ‘im,” John snapped, and Paul paused. “My Ringo-” He stiffened. “Get outta me way!”_

* * *

“Here he is. He’s resting now. We’ve managed to get the allergic reaction under control.”

John stood in the doorway, staring at Ringo, shoulders slumping a little. The nurse smiled.

“You can sit with him, if you’d like. He’ll probably wake up soon.”

John didn’t bother speaking to her – why would he? The only important person was on the bed, face still a little red and puffy, chest heaving for air. He sat in the chair as she left, closing the door, and reached out, fingers gently touching Ringo’s fingers.

“Ringo?”

* * *

_John felt angry tears burn his eyes as he waited for a taxi, staring up and down the street. He felt sick, numb, like he could just tear everything apart, but that could wait. He had to get to Ringo._

_Memories of his mother surfaced, and he swallowed them back, anger filling his frame once more._

_He hadn’t been there. That was the problem. He felt his cheeks flush and tears, hot tears, begin to run down them like he was a child again. He hadn’t been there._

* * *

“J-Johnny?”

Ringo’s voice was weak and cracked, and John smiled at him, tears running down his face again.

“Yeh worried me, you twat,” he murmured, and Ringo blinked a little. “Yer face is all puffy. Yeh look like yer inflating.” Ringo smiled, and John reached out, stroking his cheek – Ringo winced, and John withdrew. “Still a handsome get, aren’t yeh. Reckon they can get the swelling on your nose to g-g-… go d- d-…”

He had nearly made it to the end of the sentence before the sob escaped his mouth, and Ringo squeezed his fingers gently as he rested his head against the hospital bed.

* * *

_You never know you’re in love ‘til you’ve lost it._

_At least, that was all John could think in that hellish taxi ride to the hospital._

* * *

“Richie?”

Paul. John turned his head, and the others were there, with a concerned-looking Brian; he graciously scooted back, and watched as the others crowded around the man he loved. That he was confused about loving, right up until that moment Brian had said the word ‘hospital’.

He stood up, and Brian was there, leading him with a hand on his back and one on his wrist, and John cleared his throat.

“Sorry I gripped you, like, Eppy-” He wasn’t.

“John, were you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?” John’s voice wobbled, and Brian wisely didn’t press it. Instead, he turned back to the room.

“Don’t crowd the man. John, you’ve got a few minutes. We’ll all take ten with him.” Brian shepherded the others out, and John shuffled back in, before Brian closed the door, looking at him meaningfully.

“I worried,” John mumbled. “I worried about you all the way here.”

“Don’t, lad,” Ringo said quietly. “I’ll… I was an idiot, like.” He exhaled. “Should’ve told Eppy…” John shook his head vehemently, and gently kissed Ringo’s hand. “Yer a soppy get, aren’t yeh…”

“I love you,” John said quietly, and Ringo stopped. It was hard to tell if he was blushing or just red from the allergic reaction. “So forgive me, lad. But I am.”


End file.
